


The Charming Café

by That_Rainbow_Writer



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Ernest and Beatrice II meet at Starbucks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Death, Other, i love this duo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Rainbow_Writer/pseuds/That_Rainbow_Writer
Summary: When Beatrice Snicket-Baudelaire II is twenty-two, she meets E. at a Café downtown. Their meeting is great.
Relationships: Beatrice Snicket & Ernest Denouement
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Charming Café

**Author's Note:**

> Warning there are mentions of death and this is my personal headcanon. I hope you all enjoy!

Beatrice was twenty-two years old, trying to figure out her way through life. She eventually decided on becoming a writer, which she was extremely excited for. She was walking down the side-walk of The City, and noticed a familiar looking man she recalled from her past. 

She only saw him in a photo...he had blonde hair and green eyes. A giant grin to match, as he was holding a shorter female with blonde or ginger hair. She wore spectacles and was clearly happy. That photo was her father’s wedding photo. His name was Dewey Denoument. However, Dewey Denoument was dead. Her mother was named Kit, and she was also dead.   
  


Beatrice II was curious, so she quietly decided to follow the man into the Café. She saw him standing at the counter, placing his order. There was something about him that was interesting...she just couldn’t tell what. _Was it how stoic he was?_

She just couldn’t tell. There was something about him that interested her. She suddenly snapped out of thought, focusing on the dialogue in front of her.  


“Hello sir! What can I get for you today?” The barista asked, and the man thought for a moment looking at the menu. He knew exactly what to order. He adjusted his jacket, it was a deep red color with black buttons on the side. He work light brown khaki pants, with a gray belt. His shoes were the business type that Klaus would wear.   
  


“I’ll order a cold brew coffee with cinnamon almond milk...and a blueberry muffin please.” The man replied, his voice was deep. Beatrice II felt like in a visionary way he was her father...and she never really tried a cold brew before. However, even though she likes muffins...she’s not necessarily a giant fan of the blueberry kind. 

“Okay! Anything else?” The barista asked, and the man shook his head. The barista nodded, and he paid for the drink. The man really liked cold brews, a bit better than tea interestingly enough. “Name for the order?” “Just write E. on the cup.” 

_‘E. is for Ernest who is Evil.’_ Lemony’s words rang in Bea’s mind. Beatrice II thought for a moment, remembering what he said. She was twenty-two now...and didn’t need to worry about the thought of getting taken. She didn’t think he’d hurt her. Maybe he was another adjective...one she thought fit him a lot better than _Evil_. That word was _Esoteric._

Esoteric a word which here means “only few can understand or comprehend.” Sometimes you may not understand something...almost like algebra. You don’t necessarily know what the variable “X” is until you can solve the problem. Sometimes there may be a big word that could be bigger than an elephant. Of course that is— if you’ve seen a word longer than an elephant.   
  


“Order for E.!” another barista called, and the man stood up. He then got his drink alongside his muffin, and went back to sit down. “Next!” The barista called, and Beatrice walked up.

“Hi! Can I get a nitro dark almond milk cold brew grande, in a venti cup with ice, with a shot of whip cream and chocolate drizzle?” The younger girl asked, and the barista nodded. “Anything else, miss?” 

“No thank you! That’ll be all!” Beatrice replied, clearly nervous. She then paid for her order, and quietly looked over at the man in the booth. She walked over, and he suddenly looked up. He saw a young woman standing before him, dirty blonde hair and green eyes. She had freckles from K., and a pair of reading glasses. 

“Is this seat taken?” Beatrice asked, and the man shook his head. She then placed down her order, and sat down. She removed her reading glasses, and sipped the cold brew. It was pretty alright, but she wondered why he liked it so much. She assumed it fit him perfectly however.  
  


“So...what’s your name?” The man asked, and Beatrice was a bit taken aback. The man chuckled at her reaction, and Beatrice quietly placed her drink back down. 

“Um...my name is Beatrice Baudelaire II - though some people call me Bea.” She stated, holding out her hand. The man shook her hand, a small smile slightly curving his lips. “Pleased to meet you Beatrice...I’m Ernest Denoument.” 

“Oh! I actually know who you are interestingly enough.” Beatrice giggled, and the man almost spat out his drink. 

_‘How does she know me?’_ He pondered, now almost paranoid. He knew his brother Dewey was married and Kit was pregnant...but was this the baby? He didn’t know. 

“My other uncle um- L. he told me about my father, F., and you! I thought it was really interesting.” She explained, and Ernest took a bite of his blueberry muffin. _“So y-you’re...my niece?”_

Beatrice gave him a thumbs up, and Ernest smiled. He was happy she survived, and was clearly okay. “You see...as you obviously know- Dewey got shot. However...Kit got poisoned- and luckily I survived birth. However...she couldn’t save herself and died from the Medusoid Mycelium.” Beatrice choked out, and Ernest got quiet. He knew how bad it hurt.   
  


“What happened to F.?” Beatrice questioned, even though her eyes were majorly focused on the journal. It was her favorite color: rose gold. Ernest let out a sigh, and thought back to the event. He shuddered- remembering the event like it was yesterday. It felt like numb.

“You see...when the hotel was caught on fire, Frank and I were on the second floor with our blindfolds on. Frank somehow got caught in some burning debris. I yanked my blindfold off, ran towards him, and pulled him out.” Ernest started, pausing. He noticed she was writing about her father’s side she assumed. Beatrice looked back up. “What happened next?”

“Well dear...he was pretty injured. He also inhaled a lot of smoke. Luckily I got out of the building in time along with him. However, he had to be taken to the hospital. After a few days...he ended up dying.” Ernest continued, shaking his head. He was trying to stop himself from sobbing. “He was a very hard-working man. I know he would’ve _loved_ you just like your father.”

Beatrice’s heart sunk, and noticed how pained the older man was. “I’m...so so sorry Ernest.” She apologized, and Ernest smiled. “It’s okay. It’s just sometimes it occasionally rushes back to me.” 

The two eventually continued to talk about literature...and a bunch of other things- like stories from when Ernest was young. She wrote down a few things she recalled from him...like his taste in music was mainly classical, jazz, a Dobermann named Remington, and he lived in a nice one-story house with two bedrooms. Apparently he was morally ambiguous, but fought for the fire-starters which he regrets terribly. He also liked a lot of literature...but his favorite book of all time was _Lord of The Flies_ by William Golding. 

Beatrice II even doodled him, which she wouldn’t show him. But she noticed a lot of features about him that were extremely close to her father- exactly identical. They both finished their orders, and left the Cafe.

“You know Ernest...I don’t think you’re _evil_.” Beatrice started, looking at the taller man in front of her. He slightly tilted his head, and Beatrice smiled. “I just think you’re _esoteric_. You’re difficult to read by most people...but some can understand you. I can understand you...and I appreciate you.” 

Ernest smirked, pulling her into a hug and messing with her hair a bit, causing her to laugh. He thought it sounded a little like Dewey’s. “I’m esoteric?! Well my dear I believe you are correct. I wish you the best of luck to your future endeavors.” 

“Thank you, Uncle E.” Beatrice replied while she let go. She then turned around and ran home, a flock of doves immediately flying up into the air, as the clock chimed. 

_“Goodbye, Beatrice.”_ Ernest whispered, and headed home. He’d never forget that day for a long, long, time...and was one of the fondest memories he’s ever had. 


End file.
